All Roads Lead
by oppex
Summary: HP/DW crossover. A mysterious man beats Hagrid and Sirius to Godric's Hollow on that fateful night in 1981, and the course of Harry's life is changed. But though the course may vary, the end is often the same...after all, not every point in time can be rewritten. But that doesn't mean that Harry's new family isn't going to try.
1. Chapter 1

No one would ever be caught denying that what happened at the Potter household on Halloween 1981 was a tragedy. Mr. and Mrs. Potter's murders, the house trashed, and the whereabouts of their murderer, and their infant son, unknown. Rumors and speculation ran wild during the first few months. Lord Voldemort had kidnapped young Potter to become his heir, some said. They had both died and been incinerated by a backlash of magic, said others, and maybe that was the more reasonable assumption, since there _had_ been quite a lot of magical energy left behind at the scene.

Of course, the most important detail of the case would be overlooked by literally everyone investigating it, and that detail was that every single one of the Potter's neighbors who had been subsequently interviewed reported hearing a strange, difficult to describe _wheezing_ noise in the lull that had followed the sounds of a house being partially blasted to pieces.

- Just outside Potter residence, Godric's Hollow, England, Earth. October 31, 1981. –

The Doctor, hand-cobbled scanner in hand, stepped out of his time machine with all the grace of a foundling giraffe. That is to say, he half-staggered out of it, glanced around in an incredibly suspicious manner, and then made for the house whose lawn he had landed on at an unhurried pace. He was a tall, thin, man, dressed in a tweed suit accented by a red (magnificent) bowtie, and his time machine bore a suspicious (identical) likeness to an old-fashioned blue police call box. It looked very out of place on the Potter's lawn, and the Doctor looked quite out of place as well standing on the Potter's doorstep and squinting at the remains of their front door. It had been cruelly assaulted as Voldemort and his Death Eaters entered the house, and now hung forlornly on one hinge.

"Bad luck, Jimmy," he said in a perfect English accent, and stepped over the threshold. The beeps of his scanner led him up the stairs, and he paused only to bend down and shut the eyes of James Potter's still-cooling body. In grim silence he proceeded to the top of the stairs and down a short hallway, where he paused long enough to turn off the scanner—the beeping had become so frequent as to be annoying—and tuck it into a coat pocket that should have been too small to hold it before taking a deep breath and entering the nursery.

"There you are." He bypassed Lily Potter's body—her eyes were already closed—and went straight to the crib. The baby sitting inside had the blank gaze of a child in shock, and an ugly red scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. The Doctor ran a finger over the scar, then his hand over the baby's head before reaching over and lifting him out of the crib. The movement, or maybe the fact that it allowed young Harry a view of his mother (whom he would have preferred to have been picked up by, if anyone) caused him to finally begin to cry.

"Shhh, shh. It's all right. Well, no it's not. But it will be. You're all right." He rocked Harry in his arms with the well-practiced ease of a parent, stroking the back of his head as he carefully swayed toward the door. "We'll fix you right up. Yes we will." Harry hiccupped through his tears as they moved down the staircase, and managed to get a bit of baby babble in as well. "Yes, I'm afraid so," replied the Doctor, and little Harry began to cry yet again.

With a still somewhat fussy Harry on his hip, the Doctor crossed the forlorn lawn once more and entered the TARDIS. The process of dematerialization was more challenging with just one free hand, but the Doctor thought he was doing a rather excellent job despite the handicap. It was unclear whether Harry agreed, but surprisingly he seemed to be calming down amidst the wild rocking of the TARDIS and the frantic manner in which the Doctor was flinging himself around the console.

Once the TARDIS was safely in the time vortex and locked on course, everything became calm and the Doctor took little Harry deeper into the ship, a bounce in his step.

"Don't worry, Harry, you'll be just fine. The TARDIS is just about the safest place in the universe. You quite like her already, don't you?"

Harry babbled a response, and the Doctor beamed. "Of course you do! And now you're more than a bit tired, so we'll just settle down…"

They entered what could only be a nursery on that note; while it felt a bit antique, it was certainly nothing to sneeze at. There were stars projected on the ceiling, a plethora of toys scattered about the room, and the centerpiece of it all was a worn, but serviceable, wooden crib.

"This was mine once, you know," the Doctor said conversationally as he gently lowered Harry into the crib. "But I don't mind sharing." He set the crib to swaying on its rockers, smiling as Harry's infant squirming slowed and his eyelids began to droop. "Dream of the stars," he suggested kindly, and stayed within arm's reach for the few minutes it took Harry to finally give in to sleep.

With that settled, he returned to the console room, secure in the knowledge that the TARDIS would make sure the nursery was undisturbed despite the complicated flight path the Doctor was about to engage in. That was one of the many benefits of being the pilot of a sentient spaceship.

The Doctor danced around the console again, this time with much greater purpose to his movements. He was aiming for a specific place at a specific time—not something he was particularly good at, to be honest, but it was important so he was making an _effort_. And that effort paid off when, a few minutes later, the TARDIS materialized with its trademark wheeze and the Doctor saw, on the scanner, that his course had rung true.

-an office inside Luna University, the Moon. October 31, 5223—

It was long past time for classes to be over, even the night ones, and most students and faculty had already gone home for the night. But Professor River Song was certainly no average faculty member, nor had she been an average student one hundred years previously when she had attended LU as a student herself. She was working on a new lesson plan, one that was sure to keep her students on their toes as it involved quite a bit of practical work. So it was easy to imagine her alarm when her work, which was scattered across her desk in the form of many sheets of loose leaf paper, was scattered to the four corners of her office as a mysterious breeze appeared from nowhere, accompanied by a disembodied wheezing noise…a noise that was soon revealed to originate from a blue police box.

River stood at her desk, torn between delight and deep annoyance. It was always nice to see her husband, but he could pick the worst times…

Her annoyance turned to bewilderment when the man himself stepped out of the TARDIS, a bright grin on his face.

"River!" he announced happily, spreading his arms wide. "Great news! I've brought you a baby."


	2. Chapter 2

"Where did you take him from?"

River's voice was quiet, strained. She and the Doctor stood on opposite sides of Harry's crib.

"_River_, it's hardly important—"

"Fine. _When_ did you take him from, where are his parents, what were you thinking—" River's voice rose as she volleyed questions at the Doctor, to the point where Harry began to stir in his sleep.

"Shh!" the Doctor commanded suddenly, and River's mouth snapped shut at the same time Harry sighed and went still.

"They're dead," he continued, looking away from the tight expression on his wife's face. "Do you see the mark their killer left on him?"

Chastised, River bent to examine Harry more closely. She hesitated, but finally reached out and gently brushed a tuft of hair from Harry's forehead, revealing the still-dark scar. She immediately looked up at the Doctor, curiosity warring with alarm on her face. "But the only thing that could cause scarring like this is—"

"I know." The Doctor's voice was heavy. "And we'll have to deal with it. But not for a while." He finally looked at River, this time with a hopeful expression. "I thought—since we can't, I mean, you can't, and you love children, this would work. It will, won't it?"

River's eyes narrowed at that. "How did you—" her tone was sharp, but she caught herself at the last second and softened it so as not to wake the baby sleeping between them, "What makes you think I love children?"

The Doctor suddenly looked like he'd like to swallow his tongue. "Er, just a hunch—"

"And besides _that_, what possessed you to bring him to me in the first place? I'd make a _horrible_ mother, I don't know what's gotten into you!"

"_River_," the Doctor practically cooed, reaching out to stroke her face with one hand. She lifted her chin and sniffed at him in response, but didn't pull away. He chose to take this as a good sign and carried on. "You will make a magnificent mother. And that's just what he needs, you wouldn't believe who he'd be stuck with otherwise, they're terrible. Just terrible."

The Doctor might have carried on with his coaxing, but River's eyes widened almost comically as his words sunk in properly. She took his hand in both of hers and pulled it away from her face so she could concentrate, closing her eyes as she focused on Harry…

A half-second later her grip tightened painfully on his hand as her eyes snapped open.

"You've changed his timeline!" She carried on quickly before the Doctor could protest, not remembering to mind her volume in her shock. "Not just his, either, you've diverted an entire time track—"

The Doctor's face fell and Harry began to stir again, but this time the two adults in the room were paying him no attention.

"Sweetie," she said, this time sympathy softening her tone, "surely you realized this wouldn't work. There are too many timelines intertwined with his. His fate—"

"Fate," the Doctor echoed her, something like spite in his tone, but River soldiered on unphased.

"—must stay on course, and you know it."

Their conversation might have continued indefinitely, but as fate would have it, at that moment Harry finally woke up properly and, finding himself in an unfamiliar place surrounded by unfamiliar people, began to cry.

The Doctor and River looked down at him, startled, then at each other, communicating silently; the Doctor with a pleading expression, River with a faintly stricken one. After a tense few seconds, River was the one to give in. She released the Doctor's hand and gently scooped Harry out of the crib, hesitating for only a second before properly cradling him in her arms.

Unlike the Doctor, her movements were hesitant and stilted; she had little experience with small children. But some things come naturally, and a small smile crept across the Doctor's face as he watched them.

"We can do this," he said quietly as River rocked Harry back to sleep. "Time will bend for us."

In River's arms, Harry's crying tapered off into whimpering and he curled against her, gripping her shirt with one tiny hand. River seemed to be entranced by him.

"Trust me," added the Doctor, and when River finally deigned to look up at him the expression on her face told him he'd won.

In the greater scheme of things, outside the TARDIS where River Song was slowly adjusting to the idea of motherhood and the Doctor was occupying himself by rearranging his ship, creating new rooms and generally rushing about with all the aplomb of an overexcited toddler, a time track that had once been relatively set in stone adjusted itself to a new, winding course. In 1981, Sirius Black howled in grief and reacted too quickly, and his poor impulse control sent him to the wizarding world's worst prison. Ministry workers searched the Potter residence and found no sign of the Dark Lord or his youngest victim. Minerva McGonagall's evening was interrupted only by celebration (and mourning), with no late-night trips across the country, and the following morning when Petunia Dursley stepped outside to get the milk there were no unpleasant surprises waiting for her.

As for the more severe consequences of the Doctor's choice…only time would show them.


	3. Chapter 3

- a suburb near Colchester, England, Earth. September 2016. -

Harry Potter raced around the corner, running as fast as his legs would carry him. His breath came in short gasps and he almost stumbled, just managing to keep his feet. He seemed to have lost his pursuer, and if he could just make it to the door he would be home free. His legs burned and he was losing strength, but just one more corner was between him and safety. This knowledge gave him the burst of adrenaline he needed to round the final corner…only to be tackled by the very assailant he thought he had lost.

They tumbled into the grass, grappling for dominance. Harry made a frantic effort to come out on top but after a brief struggle found himself at the mercy of his attacker, who sat on his chest in smug, breathless triumph.

"Al_fie_!" he complained, pushing at the victor. "Geroff!"

Surprisingly (or maybe not), Alfie Owens complied, laughing, and before long they were off again for another game of chase. A few yards away, Alfie's mother watched them from the patio door of her house.

"Oh, look, they've really hit it off, haven't they?" she said happily.

"Yeah," agreed Alfie's father from his seat at the kitchen table, "like peas in a pod. This was a great idea. Took you long enough to pop back round, Doctor!"

The Doctor had the grace to smile sheepishly behind his mug of tea. It had been considerably longer for him than it had been for Craig since they had seen each other. Of course, he had a feeling that Craig wasn't as put out about it as he was acting. The two of them had experienced a bit of a mind-meld once, and as such Craig understood the Doctor better than a lot of people. Which made Craig a nice fellow to hang around with, but in this case the Doctor was visiting so that Harry would have someone his age to play with. The TARDIS was charming (and infinitely expandable), but no five-year-old is content with just its parents for playmates, and Harry Potter had proven to be no exception to that rule.

"Well, you know how it is. Things…happen."

"He means he's easily distracted," River put in archly, earning a laugh from Sophie, a broad smile from Craig, and a magnificent sulking expression from the Doctor.

"Oh, don't , you've hurt his feelings. You know how these men are," Sophie said teasingly.

"Oi! Don't lump me in with him, I'm very down-to-Earth, thank you."

For a second or so, Craig's indignant expression went well with the Doctor's sulk, but he broke it too quickly for the women in the room to comment, instead settling for smiling genially at the Doctor and offering a quick "No offense!" for his comment.

While this visit was mostly for Harry's benefit, it always benefitted the Doctor to spend time with Craig, who was in fact a very down-to-Earth guy. Plus it was a nice change to just be able to chat about the quirks of their children. Any private moments the Doctor and River had on the TARDIS were generally reserved for figuring out how exactly they were going to prepare Harry for his future, but with Craig and Sophie they found themselves talking easily about how Harry was picky over the strangest foods and always hopped on one foot instead of skipping, does Alfie ever do that and does he ever call himself Stormageddon these days? It was relaxing, and just the kind of recharge that they needed.

Of course, fate never lets anyone forget it exists for long. It was just a few hours later, when the boys had moved their games inside at Sophie's request, that Harry's parents received their first real reminder that time was ticking down on them. The adults had congregated in the living room, and after making a grand mess of Alfie's room in the name of having an adventure with all of his toys, the two boys came downstairs to beg for sweets.

"Not until after dinner, boys," was the response they got from Sophie, and unfortunately for their sweets craving the other adults agreed with her. So Harry and Alfie went into the kitchen to stare unhappily at the cabinet that was out of their reach.

"Maybe," Alfie said, leaning over so he could whisper conspiratorially at Harry, "we could climb the counter and they wouldn't notice."

"They would notice," Harry said immediately, knowing this from vast amounts of personal experience. "My dad knows everything, he'd come get us before we even got the box open."

"Maaaaan," sighed Alfie. "I _really_ want a cookie!"

"Me too," Harry agreed miserably.

"What if we never get one, even after dinner, and then we _die_?"

Harry, owning a finely honed sense of dramatic flair thanks to his parents, gasped at that possibility. What if they _did_ die from lack of sweets? Their parents would never see it coming! Harry was so dismayed by the possibility, he didn't even notice the cabinet opening of its own accord and the cookie tin floating out of it until Alfie gasped. Snapped out of his reverie, Harry looked up just in time to see the tin fall. It hit the floor before he or Alfie could react, and the noise brought River into the kitchen to see what was going on.

Harry had also developed a fairly strong sense of preservation in his five years of life, so he prefaced anything his mother could have said by blurting out, "It wasn't me!"

Alfie wasn't that slow on the uptake either, and he quickly added "It wasn't me, either!"

River surveyed their matching innocent expressions with an incredibly unimpressed expression of her own. "Well then, who was it?"

Alfie looked uncomfortably at Harry, who was thinking fast. He knew better than to try and tell a fib to his mum—she could _always_ tell when he was lying—so in the end he went with the truth. After all, considering his childhood so far, a floating cookie tin wasn't that out of the ordinary.

"It must have been somebody invisible! It just came out of the cabinet and fell on the floor, right, Alfie?"

Alfie nodded quickly, satisfied by Harry's excellent explanation of events. "Yeah, it was floating like, woooooah!" He made a waving motion with his arm, an earnest expression on his face.

"I see," River said, the barest hint of humor in her voice. "In that case, you two had better dash back upstairs before you start floating too, don't you think?"

It wasn't until much later, when the TARDIS was back in the time vortex and Harry was in bed dreaming of the day's adventures and his new best friend, that River brought the incident up to the Doctor.

"He thinks I didn't see, but…Sweetie, I think this may be a sign. I think his abilities are starting to manifest. Unless you think Alfie was the one making things move around with his mind…"

The Doctor, who was busy performing maintenance on the TARDIS, didn't look up from his work as he answered. "Don't be ridiculous, of course it wasn't Alfie. He barely registers on the psychic scale at all." Despite his focusing on his work, he didn't miss his wife's annoyed scoff, and obligingly turned his full attention to her.

"This was just a matter of time, you know, it's nothing to worry about. Though I suppose we'll have to find someone to teach him." The Doctor sounded less than pleased at that particular prospect; so far he had been handling Harry's education himself, covering the basics like reading, writing, mathematics and advanced physics. Nothing major, though he expected to move on to the history of the universe soon. Harry was a bright boy, after all.

"Can't you?" asked River, genuine confusion on her face. She knew her husband was far from perfect, but she still couldn't help feeling like there wasn't anything he couldn't do.

"I'm rubbish at words-based magic, dear. It's so outdated!" But he did seem to be pleased by her confidence in him, misplaced though it was. "He'll need it eventually. We'll work out something!"

He yelled the last sentence over the sound of a welding lamp, which River took as a signal that the conversation was over. Continuing while he was this absorbed in something else would only end in her getting yelled at in anger instead of necessity.

-London, England, Earth. September 2015.—

River led Harry to the TARDIS doors by the hand, an eager smile on her face. She had pumped Harry up about meeting his great-grandfather and the two of them were raring to go. The Doctor, on the other hand, had his doubts, which mostly arose from guilt.

"Are you sure we should do this with Harry here? It's just—"

"He _knows_, sweetie. Why can't you just trust me on this one?"

The Doctor huffed, but River and Harry were already out the door before he could protest further. He stalked around the console, pretending to be absorbed in readouts and flashing lights, for nearly twenty minutes before he gave up and exited the TARDIS himself. He delicately made his way into the house, where Brian Williams was…not a teary-eyed wreck? The Doctor watched, bewildered, as Brian bounced seven-year-old Harry in his lap, a proud expression on his face. He didn't seem to be upset at all, which meant that _maybe_ River had been right when she said he already knew about the fate of his son and _probably_ River was never going to let the Doctor live down his anxiety over the situation.

"Doctor!" Brian called when he noticed him, turning his smile on his grandson-in-law. "About time you came by for a visit! I've missed you."

The Doctor couldn't help but smile at that admission, his expression softening into one of genuine fondness. As far as parents of companions went, Brian was simply one of the best.

Later, over a dinner of macaroni and cheese, Brian set out to catch up on his great grandson's development.

"You're homeschooling him, I suppose?"

"Naturally. There's hardly a better teacher than the Doctor," River said with pride, and she and her grandfather shared a laugh as the Doctor puffed out his chest at the compliment.

"_Well_, I can't teach him everything. But I've got most things under control."

"He's a slave driver," complained Harry, "he's always assigning me loads of work and it's not fair."

To his chagrin, the adults responded by chuckling at him. "Now, lad, I'm sure he's fair enough. You've got to have faith in your dad that he's doing what's best for you!" Brian soothed. "Though I can't imagine what subject he means when he says he can't teach you everything. Bit of a genius, isn't he?"

The last bit was flavored with a wink that put Harry at ease. After glancing at his parents for permission to mention it, and receiving a nod from both, he replied. "It's my psychic abilities. Dad says I've got to learn words-based magic but he's rubbish at it and mum's even worse, so they're looking for a tutor."

Brian went still, an odd expression on his face that fell somewhere between disbelief and longing. "Magic?..."

"It's just like what happens when you use a computer, you know, except you do it with words and a wand instead of numbers and a computer chip. Not entirely as exciting as it sounds," River qualified quickly, but Brian's expression didn't change.

"You're a wizard, Harry?" there was a quiet intensity in his voice that made Harry uncomfortable.

"Er, yeah, I guess. That's okay, right?" Harry knew that his parents didn't care, and loved him, and he knew that similarly Alfie and his parents didn't care. But the thought of his great-granddad, who up until this point had been quite warm toward him, having a problem with Harry's apparent wizard-ness put him on edge. He wanted Brian to like him.

"Oh, Harry, of course it is! I just never thought—well, it hardly matters. Do you have a wand?"

The Doctor and River shared a glance, a little surprised at Brian's reaction. Whatever they had expected, this wasn't it.

"Why do you ask?" the Doctor cut in.

"Just an old man's curiosity. I come from a family of wizards, you know."


	4. Chapter 4

"Now, let's see," Brian said as he rummaged around in the attic of his house. "It must be somewhere around here…"

After the somewhat surprising revelation that he knew firsthand about the wizarding community, Brian had led all three of his grandchildren upstairs to explain himself. The Doctor hung back while River and Harry followed Brian closely, hanging on his every word.

"Here we are," he said with satisfaction, putting his hands on a truly antique-looking wooden trunk. "Now, our family," River and Harry both flushed a bit as he said it, with pride; with River being a bit of an anomaly and Harry being adopted, it meant more to them than Brian possibly realized to be included in such a way without a second thought, "actually goes quite a ways back in the wizarding world. My parents, their parents, _their _parents, and so on and so forth for generations, were all wizards and witches! We were a bit of an old family, as they used to say."

He began carefully lifting items out of the trunk and passing them back to River so everyone could examine them. "Here are some of mum's dress robes…the family ring…oh, look, a spellbook."

He passed the book to Harry, a pleased expression on his face. "I must have read this from cover to cover a hundred times when I was your age, Harry. Not that it did me much good, but I have a feeling you'll find it much more useful!"

"The standard book of spells, grade one," Harry read slowly from the cover of the book. "Granddad, can't you use this too?"

It was Brian's turn to flush a bit; considering that he had only known Harry for a matter of hours, it brought him a warm feeling to be considered "granddad" instead of "Brian" already. Harry was such a sweet child.

"No, Harry, I'm not magical at all. I'm what they call a squib, though personally I think that word's a bit rude." That fact didn't repress Brian's smile, though. "I did spend quite a few years trying to make it work, though, so I might be able to give you a few pointers. Think you can handle having another old man as a teacher?"

"Oi!" Put in the Doctor, his first contribution to this discussion, but he was smiling. "I'll have you know I'm not a day over a thousand."

"And I'm not a day over thirty," scoffed River. "Brian, you really don't mind?"

Brian carefully stood back up, two small items in his hands. "Of course I don't. I may not have the ability myself, but I practiced the words and movements a thousand times." He turned to face Harry, and it became clear that what he had in his hands were two wands. "Harry, these belonged to my mother and father. Now, they say that the wand chooses the wizard, so you shouldn't hold on to them forever, but for learning purposes I'm sure one of them will do nicely for now. Why don't you give them a try?"

He handed one of the wands to Harry, ignoring his granddaughter and grandson-in-law, who were quietly sniping at each other over apparent ages in the attic doorway. His focus was entirely on Harry as the boy gripped Brian's father's wand in his hand and gave it a tentative shake. Brian could definitely relate with the disappointed look on Harry's face when nothing happened, but rather than speak he simply took that wand back and handed the other to his great-grandson, smiling kindly.

"Go on, Harry," he said gently when Harry hesitated to give the new wand a wave. "Have a little faith."

Bolstered by Brian's words and attitude, Harry gave the wand a purposeful wave. Once again there was no response, but instead of looking at Brian or his parents Harry stared at the wand, willing something to happen. He didn't want to let his parents down. He didn't want to let his granddad down, even though he had only just met him. And most of all, he knew that his mum and dad worried about his future, and he wanted them to feel safe.

Several seconds passed. Harry's parents had gone quiet in the doorway, and he could feel Brian's gaze on him, but he still focused on the wand, and his focus was so intense that he almost actually didn't notice when the wand became warm in his hand. He gasped as the warmth spread all the way to his shoulder, and on impulse he gave the wand another sharp wave. This time, a trail of TARDIS blue sparks tumbled out of the tip of the wand, and Harry found himself grinning in awe over Brian's delighted clapping. His great-great-grandmother's wand had come through for him after all.

"Well done, Harry! We'll call that lesson one—good things come to those who wait!"

Harry turned his beaming grin to Brian, who promptly pulled him into a tight, though short-lived, embrace. As everyone involved would soon find out, Brian was the absolute best when it came to teaching a child values such as patience, morality, and perseverance. Not that this was a surprise to the Doctor and River. Brian _had_ raised River's father, after all, and they remembered him fondly for the exact same virtues.

And time in the universe ticked on.


End file.
